


Hit It

by Bellflower



Category: Samurai Warriors
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-08 08:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1130571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellflower/pseuds/Bellflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No couple could go too long without having at least one awkward event during a heated moment, after all, and Motochika knew Mitsuhide well enough to know he wouldn't repeat a mistake like that.</p>
<p>(More, Motochika wouldn't care even if he did).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hit It

“It's fine, Mitsuhide. Come back to bed.”

“It's not fine! I _hurt_ you, Motochika!”

Motochika shook his head, expression fond and still very much heated as he watched his naked lover walk up and down their room. What had just been said was no lie, but did it really matter? It had been an accident, the result of one intense moment of passion that had caused Mitsuhide to toss his head in response. Yes, Motochika was probably going to sport a light bruise for a while, but in a way that was something to be proud of. It was a mark that demonstrated just how capable he was of pleasuring Mitsuhide, of delighting him so much that he lost control of his body.

Mitsuhide was having a hard of time of seeing it in that light, however. He was stuck on the embarrassment and the knowledge he'd caused Motochika pain. It was endearing, but a little ridiculous; there was still plenty of pleasure to be gained from this night and no need to fear such a thing happening again. How many times had they had sex since the start of their relationship? No couple could go too long without having at least one awkward event during a heated moment, after all, and Motochika knew Mitsuhide well enough to know he wouldn't repeat a mistake like that.

(More, Motochika wouldn't care even if he did).

“This is not the kind of hurt you should be concerned about,” said Motochika huskily. “The loss of your touch is far more painful. Do you truly intend to deny me?”

“Of course not.” Mitsuhide drew to a standstill and sighed. “It's just... I don't want to make a repeat of what happened earlier. What if I were to hit your nose, next time? I only just missed it as it is!”

Well, wasn't that an attractive view? Mitsuhide had paused with his back to Motochika; his long hair covered much of that lovely expanse but left everything below quite prominent, the black of those locks making a beautiful contrast to the white of his lover's skin. Irresistible.

“There is a risk in everything we do.” Shifting into a sitting position, gaze fixed very firmly on Mitsuhide's backside, Motochika got himself comfortable against the headboard of their bed and ever-so casually wrapped his fingers around his own length. “Denying ourselves out of fear only holds us back from enjoying life. But if I must take care of myself, then so be it.”

“Motochika, I...”

“I have endless attractive memories to draw from, after all; you fuck very well, Mitsuhide.”

As Motochika had anticipated, the use of that one particular word had an immediate effect on his lover. Mitsuhide whirled around on the spot, eyes wide and just a trace of indignation in his expression that quickly faded when Motochika began to stroke himself. Apparently the sight left the dark-haired man lost for words, because he opened his mouth but promptly shut it again as the flush returned to his features. Excellent. That was promising, and so Motochika stepped it up. He spread his legs a little, tipped his head back and closed his eyes.

“Should I remember the first time I moved inside you?” he drawled. “You shifted beneath me without restraint, arching your back and chanting my name over and over again as I pressed deep inside your body. Do you remember the delicious ache I left you with afterwards? I can certainly remember just how tight and warm you were, Mitsuhide, and the delicious sound of your pleasured moans. No other music can compare.”

There was no response... vocally, at least. Motochika could hear Mitsuhide moving across the floor, coming a little closer. He had to be watching now. Time for Motochika stroke himself a little quicker; the touch was heavenly on his aching erection. They had been so close before the incident had brought things to a halt.

“Or perhaps I should think about the first time _you_ moved inside me? How magnificent you were, Mitsuhide. So shy and unsure to begin with, so energetic as you became more sure of yourself.” Motochika sighed appreciatively at the memory, and rolled his hips. “You pounded into me with such force that by the time I came, I was sore in all the best ways.”

“Oh.” Mitsuhide sounded almost mortified, but there was heat in his tone again too.”Such words, you...”

“The thought of the taste of you on my tongue is certainly enticing too. How many times have I blown you now, my love? Some of the places you've been willing to let me fall to my knees have almost been public; that you have come to enjoy the idea of outside sex is an unexpected delight. Ah... such attractive boldness.”

“Motochika...”

“I could happily dwell on the feel of you, the warmth of your touch, the size of your-”

The sentence was cut off when Mitsuhide leaned onto the bed and placed one hand over Motochika's mouth; Motochika's response was to kiss that hand and then open his eyes again, humour obvious in his expression. Mitsuhide was on his knees with his other hand braced against the bed. There was an deep amount of embarrassment etched across his beautiful face, but that flush was certainly just as much the result of arousal as it was shyness. Further proof of that was obtained when Motochika raised his free hand, stroked it down Mitsuhide's stomach and took hold of his erection, which was prominent and hard once more.

“And a wonderful size it is too,” Motochika murmured against Mitsuhide's hand. “Shall I give it the attention it deserves?”

“You are ridiculous.” Mitsuhide dropped his hand and rested it against his lover's left shoulder, before pressing his forehead against the right one and adding in a somewhat desperate tone: “ _Yes_.”

Apparently, reminding Mitsuhide of his previous excellent performances was enough to draw him back to Motochika's side... well. That, and giving him a good show. Smirking, pleased and overwhelmingly endeared by the man he loved, Motochika got back to enthusiastically pleasuring the both of them.

No amount of pain would ever ruin this for him.


End file.
